


Cold Season

by MissOverlord



Category: Puyo Puyo (Video Games)
Genre: Illnesses, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slice of Life, misplaced frustration, trying to be professional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:34:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21684580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissOverlord/pseuds/MissOverlord
Summary: It's that time of the year again. While many of the students have relatives to look after them in case of illness, not all do. When they don't, who better to keep an eye on them than someone with natural immunity?Still... Klug can be difficult even when he's fine. Will Sig's patience endure?
Relationships: Klug/Sig (Puyo Puyo)
Kudos: 67





	1. Goo-ball

**Author's Note:**

> Standalone that occurs within 'Of Demonic Entanglement'. This is set roughly two to three years after the events of Fever 2, assumes that most of the games are canon and the characterization tries to be closer to the Japanese stuff. This is especially obvious with Sig, whose manner of speaking is... different.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't call a lady a 'goo-ball'!

'Cold season', it was called, despite it not being an actual season or particularly chilly, an arbitrary time of the year when sickness seemed to spread more readily than others. Though the timing wasn't always the same, even small towns seemed to have them. Primp was no exception, especially within the student body. Proximity was like candy to viruses. Inevitably, a few would become infected, potentially furthering the spread of the viral invaders.

Still, it could be worse. It was nothing compared to what a cordyceps infection did to ants. Or nematod-

A dry-sounding cough derailed Sig's train of thought, a reminder of where he was and why. Wordlessly, he straightened out the quilt wrapped around the shivering form currently clinging to him.

Seeing his friend in this state bothered him despite his certainty that the normally bubbly blonde would be fine. Though her face was flushed from the fever she still complained about being cold, hence her being snuggled against his body and cocooned in a protective layer of blankets. Sig, being Sig, was always warmer than most people. Sig, _again_ being Sig, rarely caught colds or the flu, probably due to his mixed heritage. Not being fully human wasn't _all_ bad.

Therefore, if another student fell ill and couldn't be collected by their family or guardian, he was the obvious choice to drag them home and keep them from infecting anyone else. His background didn't hurt, either: growing up with an apothocarist meant he'd seen more than a few kinds of illnesses and had some idea of what was normal and what was dangerous.

In this case, he was keeping an eye on Amitie until one of her parents came home. Nice people, by all accounts, and it wasn't difficult to imagine how they'd raised such a cheerful, high-spirited daughter. They were also familiar enough with Sig that they _probably_ wouldn't imagine the worst upon seeing the two snuggled up on the sofa.

"Ami, doing okay?" His words were deliberately slow, wanting to make himself easily understood while he smoothed down some of the wilder swaths of wavy golden hair. _So shiny_ , he noted, even indoors with the mid-afternoon sun failing to illuminate the girl's living room much. Hers was the kind of hair that was most suited to being lit by the bright warmth of a summer sun, accompanied by a grin to match. Right now, anything more than a small smile would be asking a lot.

"Huh..? You said someth-" Amitie was interrupted by a series of coughs, her back tensing until they eventually passed. Mumbling, she buried her face against her friend's shirt. "Ugh, f'r r-really real, this's the worst..."

"Mmhm," the bug catcher hummed in mellow agreement, listening for any raspiness in the girl's breathing. None. Probably just phlegm, then. Nothing to be alarmed about.

Voice muffled by the fabric, she whined, "Si~ig," and stared up at him through suspiciously narrowed green eyes, "why're you never sick?.. isn't fair."

"Hm? Not sure," he murmured, not technically a lie but not the entire truth, either. While Amitie was easily his best friend he still had reservations about sharing what little he'd learned about his origins, _why_ he had the strange left arm and mismatched eyes. Now was _definitely_ not the time, when she was feverish, woozy and probably felt vulnerable.

Then again, what _was_ a good time to casually bring up that her friend of several years had a partially demonic lineage? _Sig_ still wasn't sure what to think about it, let alone discuss it openly. For now, he was content feign ignorance and think about it as little as possible. Apart from himself, the only people and/or entities that he _knew_ knew were a certain studious bookworm, a shouty book-bound demon's soul and the Precise Museum's resident libear-err, librarian. So, a human, part of a demon's essence and a demon residing in the shell of a stuffed bear.

Honestly, maybe it would've been better _not_ to know...

A soft tug on his fringe cut his introspection short. Amitie was looking at him again, her brow slightly furrowed this time.

"Um, yes? Ami?" Had she asked him something and been too distracted to notice? It wouldn't be the first time...

"You looked _super_ serious, Sig. Do _you_ feel ok-" She coughed again, flailing an arm in search of tissues which her friend dutifully supplied. Disgusted with whatever it was she'd blown into the papery square, she wadded it up and tossed it away. "Ugh, I feel like I'mma living goo-ball... really bites."

"Better than a dried goo-ball, tho?"

"Eww, Sig! I don't wanna be _any_ kind of goo-ball!"

He smiled a little, giving her a gentle, reassuring hug as he looked on calmly. "Don't feel gooey, so don't worry."

" _Sig!!_ "

"Ami?.."

Not the most conventional method of cheering up a sick friend but an effective one nonetheless. Between the amateur dramatics and genuinely feeling lousy, Amitie eventually tired herself out, resting against her super-warm classmate. Apart from the odd sniffle or cough she stayed pretty quiet, her half-open eyes the only blatant clue that she wasn't yet asleep.

"Hey, Sig?.."

"Hm?"

"Thanks fer staying. There's loads of fun stuff you _could_ be doing right now..."

"...Instead of watching a 'booger-ball'?" His half-lidded red and blue eyes stayed exactly the same even as he wore the tiniest grin.

"Hey, you can't call a lady that! _Si~ig_!" Her cheeks puffed out in protest, not really helping her claim to being a 'lady' of any sort.

"Called yourself one, first, Ami... don't mind being here, anyway."

"A 'goo-ball' and a 'booger-ball' are _totally_ not the same thing!"

"Sure about that?.."


	2. Perfectly Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you believe it hard enough...

Getting sick was something that happened to _other_ people. People who weren't careful. Yet, there was no denying that, at this point in time, Klug felt _dreadful_.

He must have made _some_ sort of mistake. Touched something that belonged to another student. Been too close to someone with the sniffles. It didn't bear thinking about. Thinking about much of anything seemed overly difficult right now.

There was something, a vague spark of a memory. _Something_ was going on today, something... important. Too important to miss. Too important to let a headache and some minor aches stop him. Fuzzy consciousness or no, he was _still_ confident that he'd probably do better than his classmates at... whatever it was.

... What was it, again?

No, it wasn't worth thinking about right now. Priorities. Clothes. Clothes first, then he'd have all the time he wanted to fret over what he'd forgotten.

... Why did he feel so warm?

Maybe leaving the vest off would be more comfortable. Or… no, he wouldn't feel right without it. Not doing it up might work. Having it hanging open, though… it looked so _messy_. Becoming increasingly frustrated, he stripped the damnable thing off and started struggling with his cravat ribbon. He _needed_ that one, otherwise the pendant watch would just seem silly. Trying and failing at making a passable bow for the third time in a row, he gave up, just knotting it and letting the ends hang.

At least his hair was less technically demanding. The part wasn't _quite_ up to his normal standards, but good enough. Ugh, peering into the mirror was a mistake. Not only did he look like a more casual version of Strange, the reflected image played havoc with his already impaired perception. Squinching his eyes shut, he closed his fists on the dresser’s edge for support, waiting for the nauseating wave of dizziness to pass.

It was manageable. Struggle onward and avoid looking at anything likely to aggravate his rebelling visual cortex. Simple.

But… a tiny voice from the furthest corner of his consciousness suggested that maybe, just _maybe_ it would be better to stay home. Though, he wasn't coughing or anything, not yet.

No. He wasn't about to sacrifice his attendance record over such a minor affliction. Mind over matter, so they said… whoever _they_ were. They weren’t trapped with his throbbing cranium, though.

Stumbling from his room on the second floor, he was deliberately cautious on the stairs, holding onto the smooth wooden banister as though his life depended on it. That wasn't far from the truth. Apart from himself and a chatty little book-bound demon, the house was empty. If he fell, no aid would be forthcoming.

Late… even if he’d felt like breakfast, there wouldn't be time. Still, it wouldn't take long to grab a glass of water. _Stars_ , his throat felt dry. Itchy, even. With all the grace of a living corpse, he fumbled for a glass, miraculously not showering himself in shards of clumsily broken glass. At least _one_ thing was going right so far.

Sipping from his cup of tap water, he became vaguely aware of being stared at. The crimson spectre settled on the kitchen’s table eyed him dubiously, taking in Klug's less than stellar condition. “Look, kiddo, I _know_ you're stubborn, but..."

"... Please stop yelling, Aya," the mage mumbled, fighting down another less potent wave of disorientation before he continued, “I’m per~fectly fine, okay? _Fine_.”

"One, I'm _not_ yelling, and two, just look in a mirror. You look like y’ rolled out of bed and crawled your way down here like a worm. You're _not_ fine!” For once, Ayashii didn't have to exaggerate anything: his one-time host looked like a wreck and probably felt worse.

Eyes narrowing, the academic brushed off the little red entity’s appraisal, its concern making him all the more adamant to… to… oh, right, he had a class to attend. “Keep criticizing and you stay here. _Alone_.”

“Yeah, I’ll take you up on that. You’ll probably keel over and drop me or something. Really, kid, you don't look good.” The stubborn idiot _always_ thought he knew better, getting more obstinate with each of Aya’s comments. _Stupid, if you die it’ll be_ **_such_ ** _a pain!_ At heart, it might have cared a tiny bit, though its motives were largely selfish.

Klug just snorted, no longer even dignifying the demon’s soul with a verbal response. He was going, end of story. Actually… by now, he already should have left. Now he was behind schedule _and_ felt lousy.

Truly, _everything_ was perfect.


	3. Wings of Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Assistant nurse Harpy, at your service!

That the blustering mage had shown up to school in early winter sans a coat, sweater, cloak or _anything_ around his shoulders would've been a hint enough that something was wrong with him. The rest of his wardrobe had just sealed it. Not twenty paces inside the building and he'd been shoo'ed into the nurse's station where he'd been quarantined despite his constant protestations, where the assistant nurse had been trying her best to keep the mage both in the room and wrapped in a blanket. While it was difficult to care for a moving target, it hadn't taken long for fatigue to set in. A smouldering, argumentative but exhausted patient was _much_ easier to work with.

Truly, it was a relief to the assistant. Any longer and the poor harpy's feathers might have started to fall out from the stress. Wings weren't exactly fit to fly with indoors under most circumstances, but they worked wonderfully as impromptu cordons for difficult students and were a warm, fluffy shelter for those under distress.

"You have no right to keep me here! You're... you're not even the real nurse!" Though Klug had begrudgingly allowed the pink-haired medical trainee to toss a blanket over him, he was in no way happy about it. He resented being kept here when he had... the thing.. to.. _ghh,_ he'd figure that out _after_ he escaped, watching the strategically-positioned wing which blocked him onto the cot, waiting for the right opportunity to push past the feathered nuisance.

However, the girl was a true semi-professional, keeping the wing _just_ where it needed to be as she flipped through one of a handful of files, her features becoming increasingly more troubled. She turned to look at the 'difficult' patient, pearly-pink wavy locks gathered at her shoulders, asking with a voice as warm as a mid-summer's day, "dear Klug, haven't you any relations nearby to look after you?.."

"Hmh?" He froze, so, _so_ close to finding an opening in the puffy golden plumes that served as his prison. The words... almost made sense. He scoffed, the woolen sheet wrapped around his shoulders like a cloak, " _no_. I'm perfectly, _perfectly_ capable of handling my... myself, by, um... " It was too difficult to think, answering questions _and_ trying to plan an escape at the same time.

It wouldn't do, not at _all_. This seemed a fairly standard early stage case of the cold that had been going around, not dangerous enough to warrant a hospital visit, yet debilitating enough that supervision was a requirement. What to do, what to do..? Leaving the school herself wasn't an option: the qualified nurse was away, taking a much-needed day off, and the post couldn't go unstaffed. A volunteer, maybe..?

"... Am I talking to myself? I'm completely fine! Don't you... have some sailors to lure to their deaths or something?" Suddenly dizzy, the troublesome academic hunched over, shutting out the world while he waited for the feeling to pass.

Nonplussed, the harpy prodded the insensitive Klug with a pennon's leading edge, gently chiding her patient. "Now, now, you can't be mean just because you're under the weather. That's supposedly sirens, anyway. Harpies just like sharing beautiful melodies. Oh! Maybe you'd like to hea-"

"N-no, no, _please_ no. I... apologize for being rude. My head admittedly hurts a little, but otherwise I'm alright. Please? May I leave?.." Lies, obviously, but the pink-haired songstress _was_ only the assistant. How difficult could it possibly be to convince her?

"We~ell," treading dangerously close to sing-song territory, the sweet-faced maiden smiled and seemed to consider the request. "Alright! _Can_ I trust you to stay put for just a moment? I'll need a word with your teacher first, of course."

Trying to suppress a triumphant cackle, the mage smiled, the cat that ate the canary: or, harpy, in this case. Whatever, both had yellow feathers. Chuckling, he agreed without reservation, pleased that his ruse had won out. With his intellect, it shouldn't have been a surprise. "Yes, yes, by all means, take your time. Thank you for your... understanding."

... Was there a hint of a sly smile as she left? No, of course not. He'd won the day, as usual, and could... go back... to... the thing. _That_ thing. The important one, that had remained on the cusp of his conscious memory but kept eluding him. Just what had it been? Never mind, he'd find out soon enough.

Summarily, the beaming trainee returned, and-

No, there had to be a mistake. There _had_ to be. Aghast, the mage shrieked, "y-you! You tricked me!"

"No, dear, you only asked to leave," smiling angelically, her wings fluttered as she chimed, "and you _are_! So lucky!"


	4. Abduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not kidnapping if you have permission, right?

Under less infuriating circumstances, the woozy celestial mage might have found something enjoyable in being whisked away in Sig’s arms. He’d been trying to quash a crush on the doe-eyed demi-demon for some time without much luck, so if the _meddlesome pest wasn't_ **_keeping him from something VERY IMPORTANT_** … well, then being smooshed against the well-meaning idiot’s chest wouldn't have been the absolute _worst_.

But, said idiot _was_ interfering. So, Klug was naturally furious. Even worse, as the mage neglected to wear a jacket to school he’d practically been forced into the one belonging to the cyan-haired bug hunter. While a little loose on the mage's slightly smaller frame, it wasn’t uncomfortable and kept him pleasantly warm… almost cozy, if it… if he didn’t have to live in fear of whatever his odd classmate _kept in it!_ He kept waiting for the inevitable bite or sting of some creepy crawlie or other, certain that _something_ horrible and chitinous had to live in at least one of the myriad pockets.

“Put. Me. _DOWN!_ This’s an abduction! I don’t _care_ what that siren-”

“Harpy.”

“E-either one! You can't… I… I had the thing… to,” a stabbing pain spiked in the protesting mage’s skull, making him wince as he squeezed his eyes shut, “ _gh..!_ Just… just let me go...”

Sighing, Sig hoped that the book lover would calm down, but the wounded ego demanded protest, though all it accomplished was aggravating the already angry headache. “Shouldn’t yell… just making it worse.”

Hiding his face as he waited for the nauseating feeling to pass, he hid his face and groaned, “-yelling because nobody’ll listen to me. _Why_? Why won-”

“ _Am_ listening, but you aren't okay…”

“-Aren’t my _mom,_ Sig-”

Halting in the middle of the quiet cobbled walk, the bug catcher just… looked at the feverish bundle, expression even more unreadable than usual. The chill breeze ruffled his bangs, but otherwise the youth remained motionless.

In any other state, Klug would’ve realized he’d said _something_ wrong, but instead he just glowered back defiantly until another needle jabbed behind his eyes. Hissing impotently, he jammed his face against his stand-in guardian’s shirt to shut out the light, his fists balling up the fabric. His own body was admonishing him more effectively than any outside force could ever hope.

… Not that Sig had been planning on reprimanding the ball of human misery. Without a free hand, he gingerly caught the edge of his jacket’s collar between his teeth, pulling the material up to better shield his charge’s eyes. Softly, he mumbled, “yeah, ‘m here, she’s not. Almost home, okay?”

A ruffle in the fabric indicated what might have been a nod. Seemingly having put himself through enough, the celestial mage stopped complaining, at least for the time being. Ugh, his throat was feeling sore again, probably from all of his fruitless yelling. Uncomfortably warm again, too, but that had to be the loaner jacket’s doing. Just _how_ could Sig stand wearing something like this outside of winter?! Especially when his friend was naturally warmer than _any_ of their classmates. Well, as far as Klug _knew_ , anyway. He’d never actually taken a temperature _census_ or anything…

 _Finally quiet_ , Sig's hair-like antenne dipped back to their normal state, mirroring the feeling of relief in his heart. He didn't _want_ the mage to suffer, no matter how loudmouthed or bizarre his friend acted. _Not his fault, isn't feeling well..._

Klug didn't like accepting help under normal circumstances and his complete denial of being sick was going to make this challenging. He’d probably try to escape given the chance, too. Sig absolutely _had_ to keep a close watch over his troublesome charge, at least until the stubborn bookworm realized it was better to relax and stay put. It _had_ to happen eventually, right?


	5. Safe and Sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... and grumbly.

“Really... hate you... right now,” the miserable ball on the couch wheezed, wearing Sig's coat over his head and shoulders like a cowl, “isn't… fair.”

Stiffly, the bug catcher nodded, only giving the frustrated mage part of his attention. Had he really confiscated _all_ of the shoes? He thought so, but still wasn't certain. He really wanted to find something to ease his friend's headache, but didn't need said friend wandering off while he looked. Tea also seemed like a good idea, judging from the increasing raspiness o-

“What… what did I do to… deserve this?! You’re so… _frustrating!”_ With a low hiss, the body curled up further, all fear of what may or may not lurk in the jacket’s pockets forgotten. For the record, apart from Klug, the coat contained no living creatures.

Aware of where the linens were from several sleepovers, Sig rummaged through, finding something more suitable for the mage to cozy up in. The coat alone just wasn't enough to fight the sporadic chills _and_ block out any offending sunlight. He draped the plainest comforter he could find over the mage, tossing in a spare pillow for good measure.

Though the bibliophile groaned about how utterly unnecessary the blanket was, he accepted it nonetheless, the jacket still protecting his head. Dignity, it seemed, was of less value than comfort, looking suspiciously like a smallish pile of laundry.

 _Seems safe to leave him_ , Sig eyed the ball dubiously, warily moving to the kitchen t-

“Yo. I take it you dragged the kiddo back, eh?”

‘Tenne flickering in alarm, Sig blinked, faced with the crimson, jagged-edged book demon. The Record of Sealing had been placed squarely at the kitchen table’s center, surrounded by a small fortress of lesser volumes. _Just Ayashii,_ he sighed, calming himself after being minorly startled, though it didn't show.

“Um, yeah. Stubborn…”

Though the little spectre didn’t _like_ the mongrel that just happened to possess the missing half of its soul, its caustic attitude toward him had mellowed considerably. Good, since Klug seemed to be finding more and more excuses to invite the cyan-haired youth over lately. Maybe it was because Sig exploited its weakness for puzzle books and brought it new ones every now and then. 

“I TOLD him to stay home, but does he ever listen to me?! NO! So, how’s the idiot doing? Not TOO dead?” The hovering spirit crossed its arms, impatiently awaiting an answer.

“Um..? Oh,” distracted, Sig mumbled, getting both a glass of water and setting up a kettle to boil. “Headache. Minor congestion, low fever. Just starting out, though…”

Blinking, Aya nodded, kind of surprised by the half-breed's competency. “So you’re in charge, I take it..?”

“Mmhm, ‘less he gets too bad. Like, pneumonia.” He cleared a small space on the counter, setting his bag there for the time being. After getting Klug settled, he could unpack it here.

“You’re SURE you know what you’re doing?..”

“Yeah? Not the first time.”

That, at least, made the ribbon-like entity less… tense. _Why_ was it tense?! It wasn’t as though it was attached to the whiny little celestial mage, he was just convenient and easy to filch books from. It was purely for practical reasons that it wanted to prevent the creature’s early demise.

“Look, I’ll be blunt, okay, Signet?”

“Hm?” The bug catcher blinked, still not grasping why the shorn crimson soul liked to call him that. He looked nothing _like_ a cygnet.

Quietly, Aya glanced off to the side, almost seeming ashamed to say, “I know he’s annoying, but, ah, just… keep an eye on him? It’s not like I CARE, but… I REALLY don't wanna wind up back in the library if he dies, okay?”

Nodding, the half-soul glanced at the increasingly fidgety demon’s soul, not daring to crack a smile and make Aya even _more_ uncomfortable. _Huh, actually_ **_does_ ** _care._ “Won't let him die, don't worry.”

“GAH! I’m not WORRIED! It’d just be a pain, y’ know?!” Defensively, the little red menace sulked, not wanting its selfishness mistaken for concern.

“Got it.”

Seemingly oblivious, the demi-demon wandered off with the water glass grasped in his right hand, not quite trusting the claws if his left not to crack it. It hadn't been acting up lately but showering the bookworm in wet shards of glass was something he could live _without_ experiencing.

Placing the delicate vessel safely on the sturdy wooden coffee table, he prodded the cloth bundle on the couch with a single claw. It wriggled slightly, a noise of frustration muffled by the dense material. _Just making sure…_

Now, to find something for the grumbling mage's headache. Herbs worked well under most circumstances; minor aches, swelling, fever, etc. Literal pain relief, though, was outside his sphere, something best left to specialists. While it was _technically_ possible to go overboard with, say, springflower, an ounce or two more than recommended wasn't going to hurt. His blue magic could numb sprains or breaks, but wouldn't work on something so complicated.

Rummaging through someone else's medicine cabinet without permission wasn't something he’d do, normally, carefully shifting little glass vials just enough to read the labels. Removing one, he scrutinized the label, muttering, “too strong,” as he returned it. If something weaker failed to ease the mage's suffering, maybe, but it was almost always better to start small. Further down the row, his fingertips alighted on another. _This_ looked more appropriate. Reading over the scrawled instructions, he rolled two smallish tablets into his palm.

Hopefully, they’d be enough.


	6. ... Tea?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DRINK IT.

“Drink it.”

Warily, Klug eyed the steaming decoction in his hands. It _looked_ like tea, and to an extent smelled like tea, but there were other scents, ones unfamiliar to him.

At least his headache had eased thanks to some of the medication he’d already had in the cupboard. Still, it was difficult to fully relax with the blue and red-eyed sentinel watching over him like a hawk. If he even _tried_ to make a move to leave he was confident his classmate would swoop in and snatch him up like a field mouse or rabbit.

The drink _was_ tempting. Water hadn't done anything to soothe the scratchiness in his throat and it didn't seem to be improving on its own. Still, it wasn't worth staying home over.

If it was tea, why serve it in a mug? Didn't Sig know _that_ much about dining etiquette?.. No, he supposed, the bug catcher probably didn't. Sighing, the mage resigned himself to sipping from the improper vessel. Whatever else was in it, the steaming liquid was sweetened with honey, easing the harshness in his throat.

“Not too bitter?” Sig’s fingers laced with his imposing claws, he watched the grumbly academic with mild curiosity. He’d tried to make it palatable, but there was only so much one could do when roots were involved. Too much would make it undrinkable, but too little would dull its efficacy. It would still be hydrating, but less useful.

The flavor left much to be desired, an indistinguishable medley of earthiness, mint and sweetness. Unremarkable, but nothing gag-inducing or overwhelmingly potent. It was the warmth and honey that made it a welcome offering, doing just what plain water couldn't.

Annoyed, but no longer looking like he’d try to strangle his well-meaning companion given the chance, the green-eyed bibliophile glared over the rim of the mug and muttered, “it's not terrible, if that's what you mean. I wouldn't offer it with teacakes, but…”

Satisfied, the entomophile nodded, taking the emptied vessel back and asking, “want another?”

“What I _want_ is to leave. It’s not that I don't appreciate your, ah, _presence,”_ he lied, very much blaming Sig for his previous headache at the very least, “but I feel much better now an-”

“ _No_.”

“ _P-pardon?!”_

“Was told to keep you here until you’re better,” _or another guardian shows up_ , he left unsaid as he continued, “you _aren't better_.”

“You don't know how I feel!” Hissing, Klug glowered, adding under his breath, “you don't know how _anyone_ feels…”

Ignoring the possible jab, the half-soul crossed his arms, still standing as he murmured, “can’t leave, no shoes.”

“A trifle!”

“Could take your shirt away."

"Fine, _fine_! I can live without it. I've got... the thing... with..." That irritating swimmy feeling returned, making it hard to focus, hard to concentrate. Now, to shove the blanket aside, get back up and-

" _No_. You're sick. Not going back." The authority in his flat monotone didn't seem to be making much of an impression, sadly, as he watched the mage struggle and fail to stand, sinking back into the inviting sofa. It was... hard to watch.

"You," Klug muttered through breaths more labored than they should have been, energy sapped by that which ailed him, "you can't... keep me here. I'll... I can fight you if you try."

_Stubborn_. Sig patiently watched the wanna-be dark mage struggle just to stand, which he managed to, _briefly,_ before losing his balance and stumbling forward with a frightened squawk. The demi-demon simply took a step closer, catching his obstinate classmate in an arm, keeping Klug from spilling onto the plush carpeting. Softly, he asked, "still wanna fight?"

Hissing, the academic's pride wouldn't allow him to simply back down and admit failure without even _trying_. Wearily, the mage started muttering spells, never fully completing a single one before getting lost in the painful haze inside his head.

Head spinning as an irritating buzz resounded inside his ears, Klug finally gave in, sinking back onto the cushions with an unhappy moan. Maybe the sleepy-eyed weirdo was right… though, admitting it would be acknowledging his present weakness, so he sat there in silence.

Softer this time, the somnolist sighed, coaxing his willful classmate into settling back and fixing the comforter, “wanna get you more tea, okay?”

_"F-fine,”_ Klug groaned, hiding his face in the comforting warmth as he still refused to apologize or admit defeat, “if it’ll make _you_ feel better, I guess it’s alright…”


	7. Conspiracy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A locust of power..?

It was so, _so_ much easier to deal with the mage once he’d admitted defeat, not that Klug had _said_ anything to that effect, but it was obvious from his newly subdued attitude.

Silently, Klug resigned himself to his accursed fate. He was sick, and that was that. Still, he could've managed alone. He wasn’t _helpless_ , after all, and-

“Doing okay?”

The living heatrock the mage had been snuggling against spoke, apparently noticing he was no longer asleep. How could someone known for dropping off on a regular basis manage to keep awake _now?_ He’d already thought Sig was strange and this was just another entry to the list. Still, his classmate's high body temperature did wonders for the minor body aches that seemed to gnaw at his joints like carnivorous fish.

Klug nodded softly, mumbling and soaking in the warmth, “yeah, just kinda achy. You don't need to stay, though. I… I can handle this alone. You don't need to-”

“Ms. Accord said to stay. Don't mind, isn't the first time,” Sig hummed, omitting that this was his first that spanned more than a few hours. He didn't want the mage feeling nervous or guilty.

"She... she probably hopes you'll eat me or something," he rasped, a gloomy look in his normally vibrant eyes as he babbled, "she knows... she knows that _I_ know."

Sig just stared, puzzled by the mage's disjointed mumblings. Baseless or not, it wouldn't be good if his charge was afraid of him. "Aren't worried, right..?"

"Huh?.. Oh, about you? Nah," a self-satisfied smirk as he nestled in the warmth of the comforter, "maybe smother someone to death accidentally. Accord, though... she isn't as harmless as she looks."

“Mnn, does more tea sound good? Breathing sounds a little rough…”

“Fine, fine,” Klug chuckled hoarsely, “if it makes you happy. I’m not in a place to argue, am I?”

It was a relief that the bookworm stayed put as the herbal tea brewed, Sig poking his head out from the kitchen periodically just to be safe. Normally, he’d trust Klug to stay put, but not now, not with a mild fever to cloud his friend's judgement.

Returning with two warm mugs, one a standard tea for himself and the herbal-honey blend for his classmate, he settled back onto the sofa, letting the snuggle back up. “So, about Accord?” Though Sig wasn't taking the bibliophile's mutterings seriously, it was something to listen to and kept Klug’s mind off of his suffering.

Taking plenty of breaks to nurse the beverage, the mage proceeded to launch into a long, rambling tirade. Something about flying canes, sabotage, puppets and 'the school's shadow'. Patiently, the bug catcher listened, even though it made absolutely no sense to him. The 'shadow' itself was a myth, a rumor that varied depending on who you asked. There was no consistency, so it couldn't be taken very seriously. The idea of their longtime teacher being 'up to something' or 'trying to get rid of' Klug were so outlandish that the half-demon couldn't help but smile.

"H-hey. You're grinning. You're... are you ignoring me?"

"Nmm-mm. Something about a puppet being a locust?"

" _Locus_ ," he hissed, but that Sig got _that_ close ment the dozy-looking weirdo was at least _half_ listening _._ "It's... it's like a... a gathering point-"

Klug fought to suppress a yawn, but it was a losing battle. Wearily, he blinked, mumbling, "hey... what was in that tea? You aren't... aren't _trying_ to sedate me, right?"

"Nah. Little valerian. _Helps_ you sleep, doesn't _make_ you sleep." There was a minor pharmacopoeia of other herbs, mostly to ease the mage's breathing and to lessen the body aches.

As resentful as the scholar felt with his situation, he didn’t blame Sig for any of this, not really. What he truly hated, what _really_ got to him, was the idea of needing help, of seeming pitiful. Klug prided himself on being independent, of being not only able to function but to _excel_ on his own. Having aid thrust upon him and being unable to shove it away and deny it… it felt more damaging to his sense of pride than any virus could be.

So, he remained caustic. Combative. He couldn’t admit that his friend’s concern touched him, even a little. He was even less capable of acknowledging how being like this, tucked under a warm comforter and relaxing against his crush’s body… it was _just_ the sort of thing he craved, even if it was the definition of a guilty pleasure.

Sig didn't, nae, _couldn't_ know about the mage's pointless infatuation. Trying to pursue the demi-demon was a lost cause, convinced that if the bug catcher wasn't already paired with Amitie, they _would_ be. Amitie was everything that he wasn't; cheerful, outgoing, sweet, fond of nature and to top it all off she was, well, _pretty._ She and Sig were already best friends. They were… well, they’d be _perfect_ together.

Plagued by his own negative thoughts, he drifted off to sleep, unable to enjoy the simple comfort of being held by the person he wanted so badly to be close to.

Why did fate have to be so cruel...


	8. Resentment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just... just leave me alone...

“Don't,” spoken in a low, flat monotone.

“Wh-what? I know, I've been a pain and I’m sor-”

Sig’s antenne flickered, making it unnecessary to even _see_ the youth’s face to know how he felt… not that his face would’ve shown it much anyway. Letting out a soft, hissing breath, he mumbled, “stop talking…”

“O-oh. I… sure, I’ll-”

“ _Klug,_ stoppit,” the somnolist's breath was an irritated huff as he grumbled under his breath, “just so… _annoying.”_

 _That_ stung. Yes, Klug knew he was seen as something of a braggart, a know-it-all, but he _did_ know things and was just eager to show off, that was all. Annoying, though? Normally… Sig didn't mind letting him talk, just quietly listening and sometimes nodding or… or breaking in with the odd question. He… he genuinely thought the bug catcher didn't _mind,_ maybe even _liked-_

“Nothing but trouble,” came another low mutter as Sig dragged his claws through the carpet, slumping as he sat at the base of the couch and clearly wanting to be anywhere _other_ than here, playing nursemaid for such an ungrateful spoiled _brat_.

… He really was, wasn't he? The mage had everything he needed, practically everything he _wanted_ , yet he _still_ coveted what little he didn't have. His loneliness was largely his own doing, and if he'd just put in the _effort…_

Impassive mismatched eyes stared at him from just above the armrest at the sofa’s opposite end, one of chilling blue and the other a smoldering crimson. Both, mildly creased at the edges and filled with utter resentment.

 _I'm sorry,_ he wanted to apologize again but his throat wouldn't cooperate and just closed up on him, instead. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry I’msorryI’ms-_

Instead, the great celestial mage and over-achieving scholar broke down in soft, pitiful sobs, clutching the comforter in his trembling fingers. _Pathetic,_ the wicked part of his psyche bristled, _you’re feeling a little dejected and this is how you deal with it?_

Still, the eyes stared at him in _utter contempt_.

He couldn't take it. Sobs devolved into plaintive wails, muffled only by the thick, quilted blanket he clutched close to himself. It wasn't enough to silence the shameful cries, but at least with it gathered up like this Sig wouldn't have the satisfaction of seeing his tears.

Or, it would've if the damned half-demon hadn't started shaking him. Why? _Why_ couldn't that monster just leave him alone? Was it really necessary to rub salt in his figurative wounds, as well?

“Klug…”

“L-leave me alone!” Finally managing to choke down his sobbing enough to speak, he snapped, “I-I know, you hate me, j-just _go away!”_

“Klug!” He slightly jostled the distraught magic student again, “y’ gotta wake up!”

Hurt and confused, Klug struggled as he tried to break free. ‘Wake up’? To what, the reality that he was ultimately alone? Even Ayashii, the tiny book demon, only _used_ him out of convenience.

Starting to genuinely worry, Sig, the _actual_ Sig, gently shook the semi-delirious academic's shoulders and tried to free his poor classmate from the undoubtedly distressing dream.

 _Should've stayed with him,_ the bug catcher reflected, a twinge of guilt twisting in the pit of his stomach. Still, the last time Klug dozed off, his friend had been sleeping so soundly that it had seemed appropriate to carry the mage upstairs and tuck him into bed, closing the curtains to shut out some of the light. It was more comfortable than the sofa and would allow Sig to take care of a few necessities.

For one thing, the somnolist had been half-starved, so he’d rummaged for a snack for himself while starting some broth for later. True, it was mostly vegetable-based, but the remains of a roast would lend it enough body to be helpful. After that, he’d dragged his satchel up into the second-floor hallway so he could keep an ear on Klug and start on the assignments he'd been given before dragging the protesting wannabe dark mage home. He still needed to find his ladybug something for dinner but didn't dare leave the house… in a worst case scenario, she _could_ eat her leaves, but heavily preferred tender aphids.

He’d gotten part of the way through a reading assignment when he'd caught the soft, plaintive sobbing.

Now, Klug was feebly trying to push him away, babbling something about always being alone and repeatedly apologizing between ragged breaths. Those unfocused green eyes, so sorrowful and full of tears broke Sig’s heart.

Even as the mage's weakened fists fell on his chest, the bug catcher dragged the protesting, tearful bookworm into his lap, refusing to let go no matter how pitifully the angry bundle mewled.

Gradually, the attempts to escape or smack his captor tapered off, just leaving Klug a feverish, whining mess. Eventually, he was drawn to the comforting warmth, though the tears continued to fall.

" _Si~ig,_ " he whined, sniffling into the bug catcher's sweater, "I... I wish you liked me-he~!"

Baffled once more, the half-demon tried to be reassuring, murmuring, " _do_ like you, Klug..."

Puffy-eyed, the academic sort-of stared up at him, still trapped in the hazy fog of partial consciousness, "y-you do?.. R-really?"

"Mmhm," Sig's words were carried by a gentle drone, a matching smile on his lips, though his eyes couldn't hide all of the pain he felt. “We're friends, right? Thought so, at least."

' _Friends_ '. Accurate, but even so, the mage devolved into a fresh round of bawling.

Not knowing the trigger, his mismatched eyes just stared helplessly. He was _supposed_ to take care of the poor thing, not drive him to dehydration via weeping. Obviously, his friend was in pain, but in this senseless state, the source was probably unknowable…

" _Please_ , Klug," there was a hitch in Sig's breath, one that he couldn't help as he hugged the miserable weeping figure to him, "please, don't cry. _Please._ " _It hurts_ , he left unsaid.

“ _S-Sig~!”_ He moaned, “ _I-I-hi-hi-am_ _s-sorry~!_ B-been a jerk, a burden a-a-ahnd been _cruel t-to you~!”_

“Shh, shh… Klug,” the entomophile hugged the distraught, shivering bundle, nuzzling the mage’s cheek to provide another anchor to reality, “weren't that bad, it's okay. Didn't take anything personally. Still like you, okay?”

Hazy green eyes ringed in red, snot dribbling from his nose, he seemed to puzzled over the real Sig versus the caustic one from his dream, quieting down as his friend's cheek rubbed against him. He sniffed, digging his fingers into Sig's top as he asked sedately, “y-you don't hate me…?”

“Don't hate you,” he repeated, hugging his insecure charge, “don't hate you at all, Klug. Having a hard time now, that’s…”

“ _Hhrmgh…_ i-it’s n-no excuse...”

“You're sick. Don't think straight when you're sick. It’s okay,” the half-soul rumbled comfortingly, nudging into the living misery-ball’s neck, “I… I forgive you. Just feel better, Klug.”

Weakly, the delirious mage nodded and murmured, “o-okay. I... believe you, Sig. I believe you…”

“Wanna get you some medicine soon, okay? Don't mind snuggling for a bit, though.” He’d rather go now, _immediately,_ but Klug needed his presence, needed not to feel alone in this hazy state.

The scholar meekly hugged the warm-hearted demon, grateful that Sig was here for him. Still half-asleep, he slurred, “thank you… thank you, Sig. You’re wonderful.”

“Welcome. You’re welcome, Klug.”


	9. Mumblings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do celestial mages dream of, anyway?

A sigh of relief escaped the cyan-haired youth’s lips as he once again checked the sleeping mage's temperature with the back of his hand. A touch above normal, but lower than it had been. Aside from an odd cough, Klug's breathing was regular and untroubled. _So much better,_ he allowed himself a small smile, watching the subtle rise and fall of the blankets as his friend slept.

_Maybe… wouldn't be so bad if… zz-_

Feeling his eyes beginning to droop, Sig shot up suddenly, violently shaking the cobwebs from inside his head. But… but he really _was_ tired. Was it okay? The low simmering broth would be fine for a few hours, at least. Yes, a nap. He _needed_ one.

Not wanting to abandon nor disturb the peacefully dozing mage, he spread out on the vacant side of Klug's bed, just lying atop the comforter rather than risk waking his friend. He… did this the first time he’d slept over here, didn't he? Settling his head onto the overstuffed pillow, he closed his eyes, just listening to his friend breathe.

“-Mnnm… Shhg, dhnnt… “ A soft, snuffling giggling sound drifted over from the other side of the bed, mumbled and hard to make sense of… but unmistakably happy.

 _Good_ , Sig purred, half-listening to the mage's garbled sleep-talk. He rarely understood any of the nocturnal murmurs that escaped Klug's lips, but that was fine. Dreams were strange things, a blurring of the mundane and the fantastic, hopes and fears and everything in between. Personally, he enjoyed those with the freedom of exploring open, blue skies, the kind that seemed to stretch on foreve-

“-Uhm?” His mellow thoughts were disturbed by a weight falling across his chest. Lid over his azure eye cracking open just a fraction, he confirmed his suspicion. Klug had apparently turned over and thrown an arm around him, face nuzzled into the pillows by his head. _Cute…_

“-Mh, Shhg… lhmu _Shhhgh-”_

‘Tenne twitching, Sig… silently shifted, turning his back on his friend. Dreams were _weird,_ even if he heard what he _thought_ he’d heard. That belief still couldn't banish the barest hint of a blush from his cheeks.

There was just no way that outside of a delirious fever dream that… that Klug would _ever_ …

… Yeah. The rabbity mage liked being close to him, sometimes, but that just fended off a sense of loneliness. _Anyone_ could do that. Sig was just convenient and didn't mind, that was all. It… probably helped that he was strong, too. If Klug wanted to read outside beneath a shady tree, no one would interfere if the mage was curled up beside him or using his lap as a pillow. Even Feli would think twice before picking a fight with a partial demon.

Klug liked him, sure, but not _like_ liked. Gosh, just what kind of person would the bookworm even _like_ like? Someone just as smart, if not smarter, probably. Someone who could actually discuss complicated magic stuff without needing half of it explained to them. Someone who could make him laugh or smile without making the poor guy all flustered… though, the mage looked _really_ cute whenever he was nervous.

Whatever would make him happy… it wasn't Sig. Not stupid, but well below the academic’s level. None of their classmates met that standard. Once he graduated, the mage would probably have better luck at whatever fancy magical university he’d doubtlessly get into.

At least the bug catcher's friend would be happy, eventually. It would just be a shame that he'd probably never be able to _see_ it. He… kind of wanted to know what a bookworm in love looked like. _Probably really, really cute,_ he released a rumbling sigh and smiled.

As he nestled into the pillow again, he settled into a deep, exhausted sleep.


	10. Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sulky bookworm.

Klug was awake again, grasping the comforter in his lithe fingers as though they were claws. A low, monotonous noise droned beside him in the darkness, a sound he easily recognized. Sig… must have been keeping an eye on him and fallen asleep.

He wanted to reach out and ruffle his sleeping classmate’s hair, thank him for keeping him company, but… the bug catcher was only doing what he'd been told to, hadn’t he? That was they only reason for the demi-demon to watch over him like this. Sig wasn't here because he _wanted_ to be. He probably had any number of other things he'd rather be doing than looking after one insignificant student of magic. The sweet soul was just too good natured to refuse, to stand and absolve himself of the responsibility of looking after Klug.

Morosely, Klug kept up this line of thought, despairing at his own weakness and how that lack of strength was probably making someone he thought of as a friend miserable. Even if he asked, Sig would claim everything was okay. Sig… never complained, even in a case like this where he was fully justified.

And… Sig was only here because Klug's parents weren't. How long had it been since they’d left this time? How long since they'd stayed home for more than a few days? How long since… since they'd even written him a _letter?_

The nasty little thoughts invaded the increasingly sullen mage's mind, writhing and squirming and whispering terrible things from the corners of his mind.

His mood blackened, curling and flaking at the edges like charred paper. The more he thought, the more sense the vicious little ideas made. Nobody _wanted_ to be here with him… or, more simply, nobody wanted _him._

Struck by the cruelty of his crush being forced to deal with him simply for the lack of anyone else willing, he started to sniffle. Sniffles turned to sobs, and sobs turned into a low, heartbroken wail.

Startled awake, the demi-demon shook the sleep-haze from his brain, trying to make sense of what was happening. Klug was weeping again, but it sounded different this time, less… disconnected. He pivoted and settled by the mage’s side, distressed by the terrible sound.

Sig was _used_ to the mage's blustering, his complaints and numerous protestations. This... he wasn't sure how to handle. Sure, almost everyone had seen Klug cry at some point, but not like this. This wasn't simple frustration or anger. This... this was despair. Immutable, naked despair.

“U-umm, Klug..? What’s… what’s wrong..?” _Bunny, talk to me,_ his eyes pleaded futility. It's not as though the novice dark mage could _see_ through the tears.

“J-just leave me alone. L-leave me to die in peace, t-that way I won’t cause a-anymore trouble,” he whined, “you won’t h-have to waste your time on… on someone like _me.”_

"Klug," the half-soul hummed softly, trying to give his sobbing classmate notice instead of just grabbing and potentially scaring him, "not gonna die, okay? You'll be fine..."

"W-well maybe I shouldn't be!" He snapped, then shrank further, continuing to sob softly into an increasingly tear-stained pillow. "It'd.. it’d p-probably be better that way. Parents'll have a second shot at ha-having a kid they can b-be _proud_ of... _w-want_ to be around, instead of... of..."

Sighing, the bug catcher-turned-nursemaid dragged the nervous sobbing mess closer to himself, refusing to let go. " _Not_ dying. Won't let you. Curious, though," he asked, sounding genuinely interested, "how can they _not_ be proud? Have the highest grades..."

"T-they're not _perfect_!"

"Skipped some levels..."

" _Two._ O-only two. I sh-should've graduated by now. St-still... still stuck here..."

Listing accomplishments didn't seem to be helping. A different approach, maybe?

"Really, really handy in the kitchen?.."

"Yeah, _really_ impressive if I was a _girl_ , Sig," he sounded more irritable than upset now, at least.

"Can't tell the baker that," the demi-demon smirked, "probably get banned..."

"F-fine. I have _one_ good point. _One_. A s-single redeeming feature."

"Kinda cute, too..."

"... Wait. _What._ How is that a _good_ thing?" Skeptically, his green eyes glared at Sig, still half-hidden behind the pillow he insisted on clutching. For now, at least, the tears seemed to have dried up.

"How's it bad?"

"B-because! It's better to be h-handsome, or dashing, or, or-"

"Doesn't make it bad, though."

_Maddening_. Sig was so, _so_ maddening!.. but he _did_ have a point, sort of. That just made it all the more frustrating. Not only was the doe-eyed idiot making it harder for Klug to drown in his own misery but he was _right_ , too.

" _You_ think I'm cute?"

"Maybe."

" _That's your answer to everything!_ " Gritting his teeth, the mage gave up, weakly tossed the sodden pillow at Sig's head and leaned against the humanoid heatrock to sulk. Annoyed, yes, but at least he could be annoyed _and_ comfortable.

"Feel a little better?"

"... I'm not talking to you right now."

_Take that as a 'yes', then,_ the sleepy-eyed somnolist smiled, letting his furious lapin-esque companion curl up against him. It was strange, though. Why was Klug so convinced that his parents didn't love him? The fever, probably. A fever could make people say some pretty crazy things...

"I... I said I hated you earlier, didn't I?"

"Mmhmm. Don't worry about it. You're sick."

"... Do you hate me?"

"No." Short, straightforward and a very 'Sig' answer.

"You're... you're probably the only one who doesn't, then. Even Aya does."

"Dunno. Seemed concerned about you, actually."

"Are we talking about the same Aya? Red? Semi-corporeal?"

"Yells a lot? Mmhm. Asked me to take care of you."

"...Probably meant in the mob sense."

"Nah. Would've said so if it meant it," Sig's tone seemed adamant, even as he mumbled, "not great at, um, subtext. Think Aya knows."

"E-even so, the class-"

He shook his head slowly, aquamarine bangs swaying with the movement as he pulled a blanket over the insecure, shivering mage. " _Klug_ , no. Not sure that Ami or Lidelle could. Taru's kinda scary over Raffina, but-"

"Raffina..."

"... Thinks _everyone's_ annoying, not just you. Doesn't _hate_ anyone, though."

"Feli?"

_That_ one, the bug catcher couldn't really say. Seldom seen, even rarer to hear from. Apart from practically being Lemres' shadow and an obvious interest in divination, she was a mystery to him. Well, and her insistence on addressing Klug as 'the four-eyed one', which was _technically_ accurate, but... kind of mean.

"... Fine, not sure about Feli."

"So at least three people hate me."

_Three?_ Feli was only one person, so...

"Think your parents hate you..?"

"If they _didn't_ , they'd come home more often. Or... or at least write letters."

"Keep saying they're really important, don't stay in one place long..."

"They could at least _send_ some! But... they don't..."

"You asked them to?.."

"Tch! W-well, no, I mean, when could I?!"

"Next time they visit? Might think you _don't_ want letters. Might think they'd make you feel lonely..." Baseless conjecture, of course, but it at least _sounded_ better than agreeing that the mage's parents might not care. It provided some room for hope, and sometimes a little hope was enough.

"I... I'll remember to do that, or... or try to."

"Remind you about it later, okay?"

"S-sure. Sig... thank you. Really. I don't know how to..."

"Just glad to help. It's okay."

"It's... no," Klug shook his head. Dazed as he felt, there had to be something... _something_ that Sig would like.

"Don't worry. Just rest, okay?"

Something... something, something, _something_...

"H-hey, Sig?" Something... he couldn't think, if he thought about it...

"Hm?"

"I-I, um..." _Don't think. Just..._

"Klug, you okay?.."

_Just do it,_ his mind screamed as he started to hyperventilate, _otherwise, you'll lose your nerve._


	11. Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just stop thinking about it..!

Klug... kissed Sig. Chapped lips, pressed against Sig's. _Kept_ pressing against them, at least until the mage backed down and started to tremble. _What... what did I just..?_ _What if he didn't..? Oh no... no, no, n-_

It was rare to ever see Sig wide-eyed, yet that was the only accurate way to describe him at present. He'd looked after others before, but _this_ was a new one. Still, he didn't have much time to process it before Klug started shaking. _Why?.._

"S-sorry, I... Sig, I..." He barely managed to eke the words out between breaths that were much too shallow, much too fast.

Calm... it was _essential_ to get Klug to calm down, start breathing normally. He pulled the panicking mage's body close to his own, the tearful head resting against his clothed chest. Slow, measured breaths, as he whispered, "it's okay, Klug, it's okay..."

It didn't seem to work at first, the mage's overtaxed heart beating faster, but... it decreased, little by little. With each harried breath, he picked up more of the calming earthy scent. This... it felt safe. It felt familiar. This was the presence that calmed his nightmares, kept them at bay. Why... why was he so upset? It was hard to remember...

"It's okay," Sig continued to croon, hugging the feverish figure protectively, "it's alright, Klug..."

"S-sorry," he started to stammer again, out of habit more than anything, "s-sorry, Sig..."

"Don't, Klug. It's okay. You don't have to worry."

Somehow... the mage started to believe the repetitive mantra. He believed it, and started to relax. _Stars,_ he was tired. No, not just tired, _exhausted_. Thirsty, too...

"Throat's... dry."

Unsurprising, with the considerable amount of tears that had been shed. Prepared as he was, it wasn’t at all difficult to reach the glass on the nightstand and deliver it into the academic’s shaky hands. It had been left just shy of being full to prevent the liquid from sloshing out in his friend’s jittery grip.

At least Klug seemed to settle down, taking small sips while making the most of his caretaker’s warmth. Once his thirst was quenched, he quickly slipped into a deep but fitful slumber, grumbling softly as his muscles periodically twitched like a dog dreaming of chasing squirrels.

Beneath the comforter, the half-soul remained still, keeping his mismatched arms crossed over his charge, intent on guarding his friend and letting the poor exhausted thing sleep undisturbed. His resolve only firmed as the mage unwound, becoming still and silent save for soft, regular breaths.

Sig was at a loss to explain what had happened, why the mousey mage had… kissed him. He wasn't angry or upset, just confused. _Shouldn't think about it too much_ , he figured, _doesn't mean anything_.

Unless the mage brought it up first, Sig decided to keep it to himself. Keeping silent wouldn't cause him any suffering, wouldn't hurt him. It wasn't traumatizing or anything. If it hadn't been the product of a fevered mind, he might've even... _no_ , merely _considering_ that wasn't helpful, not now.

Klug, though… the poor guy had so much trouble just accepting help, who knew how awkward he’d feel about kissing his friend? Insensible or not, he’d probably blame himself and agonize endlessly over what Sig thought of it, thought of _him_. Even if Sig offered reassurances, whether he'd accept them or not was anyone's guess. Considering how upset his own actions had made him, it was better to leave that tempest bottled, if possible.

 _Only if he asks_ , the bug catcher reasserted. Until that time, it was business as usual.

It... it was kind of disappointing, though. The reaction made it obvious that it was a mistake, that it wasn't supposed to happen. Honestly, the somnolist didn't mind: in fact, he'd-

 _Stop it_. _Didn't_ ** _mean_** _anything. Just making yourself sad._ _Have a job to do, anyway._

Was it bad that he kind of wanted to kiss Klug back..?

 **_Stop it._ ** _Have to focus. Need to…_

Yes, just shove it aside. _That_ wasn’t important. Taking care of his classmate, now that _was_. He stayed there, his single crimson eye glowing in the curtained gloom, patiently allowing the exhausted sick academic to rest undisturbed.

“You’ll be okay, Bunny,” he whispered under his breath, “ _promise…”_


	12. Caterpillar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why?

Eventually, the mage’s fever had broken. He’d found himself in his pajamas, aching all over and snuggled up atop… Sig. An unusual position to be in, certainly, but the bug catcher’s presence wasn’t what disturbed him. He vaguely remembered shambling to school, something about feathers and… crying. _Oh._ Oh, _no._

Unaware of just what awful things he’d certainly said or done to his crush, a blade cruelly stabbed at his heart.

Why? _Why_ did it have to be Sig?! Yes, he'd have felt guilty about giving anyone such a hard time, but felt infinitely worse having put the bug catcher through _who_ knew what. If he clearly _remembered_ all of the doubtlessly callous things he’d said and done, he could at least _try_ making it up to Sig.

Having the somnolist see him in that state… it just twisted the knife even more. Klug knew full well how irritating and combative he became when he was sick. It was probably for the best that his affection for his caretaker was one-sided… his behavior doubtlessly would've made his classmate reconsider any feelings for him.

“...I-I’m… I’m sorry…” Voice escaping in a raspy whisper, Klug buried his face and groaned softly, not wanting his companion to see the doubtlessly guilty look in his eyes.

“S’ okay. Feeling any better? Had a rough night…”

Cheeks going crimson, he tried a rough approximation of a nod, still not wanting to be seen in such a pathetic state. Rough for _whom?_ Himself, Sig or both? He couldn’t have been _too_ horrible since his friend was still speaking to him, but… he couldn’t help worrying.

“I’m really, _really_ sorry if I said anything, ah, _unkind_ ,” Klug whined, the warmth from his friend easing the aches in his body, “I’m… hard to deal with when I’m ill. It couldn’t have been easy to tolerate.”

Ruffling the mage's already disorganized hair, Sig smiled softly and demurred, “nah, not that bad. Don't worry…”

“Saying ‘don't worry’ just makes me _more_ worried, Sig.” A soft scowl wrinkling his features, the book lover drew the comforter in tighter as he groaned a second time.

 _So cute_ , his mismatched eyes glimmered as he hugged the troubled-looking bookworm, less out of necessity but more because he just felt like it. Something about the way Klug's nose scrunched up when he scowled was endearing, kind of like the surface of a curious, rearing caterpillar investigating a new edible leaf.

Worried at the silent stare, the mage started to squirm. “Um, Sig?.. why are you looking at me like that..?”

“Um..? Nothing. Want more tea? Made broth, too.” Caught a little off-guard, the entomophile changed the subject. Somehow, he didn't feel his comparing Klug's nose to a larva would make his friend happy.

Shaking his head, the celestial mage mumbled, shivering a little. “Not right now, thanks. I'm just… kind of stiff and chilly. I’d rather stay like this, if it's alright with you.”

Judging from the way the bug hunter purred while hugging him closer, it very much seemed ‘alright'. Klug was once again thankful for his friend’s cuddly nature. Even if this sort of thing was the most he could hope for from Sig, well, it _still_ felt nice.

Achy and congested as he was, the mage found comfort in being here like this with his crush.

Not _ideal,_ but not all bad, by any means.


End file.
